The Master Plan
by the chia pet
Summary: according to legend, if the ravens leave the tower of london, the country will fall into ruin. this is why. (p.s. formatting is screwy, please ignore. ^^;;)


hey ho, y'all! chia pet, here. first fic in a while, so don't be too mad at the grammatical or other mistakes. this was written at midnight on a saturday under the influence of aspirin, so i take only half responsibility for its crappiness. ^^;;;  
  
disclaimer: sadly, the bois belong not to me. /sniff\ they are property of the great j.k. rowling and various other publishers. ^^  
warning: this story will contain SLASH, people. as in, boys boinking each other and liking it. scared? go away. not? Stay and read and make me happy!   
  
you only live twicebr   
or so it seemsbr  
one life for yourselfbr   
and one for your dreamsbr   
you drift through the yearsbr  
and life seems tamebr  
till one dream appearsbr  
and love is its namebr  
- you only live twice, nancy sinatrabr  
  
  
The Master Planbr  
Prologue: A Murder of Ravensbr  
  
Nightbeak was born 27 years after the last silver-beak. This in and of itself was unusual. Keepers often lived unusually long lives, owing to the ravens' magic and protection. But Nightbeak was born early. He was the only of his clutch to survive.   
  
His father was Half-wing and his mother Cloak, two of the unlikeliest ravens in the murder* to breed decent offspring, much less a silver-feather. Dagger, the murder's current three-eyes, had told him that silver-feathers were the second most important members of the Tower's murder.  
  
They were the ones who Chose the True Keepers.  
  
Nightbeak knew that one day, he'd fly into an unknown place and die to Bind the Keeper to their murder, to the Seal that they protected.   
  
The murder's last Keeper, a witch by the name of Lily Evans, had died when Nightbeak was sent. He was two and a half years old, old for a silver-feather to be sent. The new Keeper was a chick yet, two months old and ugly, as human chicks were.   
  
His name was Harry Potter.  
  
He remembered what it felt like, when he and the Keeper had Bonded.   
  
He'd shed his physical form when he'd left the Tower, so he had Bonded with the chick on the Astral Plane. Normally, Bonding was done through their physical forms, but the chick was too young and wouldn't have been able to take the stress.  
  
His form on the Plane was a raven with stars for eyes and a bright, glowing feather in his left wingtip; the place the feather that marked him was. It had been easy to find the boy, he glowed bright as a star. The young raven knew he had to hurry; he could feel evil forces working, trying to loosen the threads of the Seal.   
  
The former Keeper's power took the form of a winged woman, akin to an angel. She glowed fiercely, light pulsing with every surge of her power. In front of her stood a whirling vortex of black winds and magicks. The vortex was marked all over with runes of the Dark One, the one who lay sealed beneath the Tower. Nightbeak could see all the threads that connected the three forms, threads of magick and destinies long ago written in stone.  
  
As Nightbeak approached the forms, the Mother suddenly exploded, one great burst of light, and fell as the great black vortex absorbed her. Nightbeak saw the Darkness attempt to absorb the second star behind the first dying light, and began to chant the first words of the Bindings.  
  
The arcane, Human words stuck in his throat, his raven tongue not able to make the sounds properly. They came garbled and almost incoherent, but he could still see the Bind magicks stirring and awakening.  
  
Karlarnia, One who Saw it, come to me!   
  
A winged creature came, a woman, swathed in purple fabric dotted with the Druid symbols of Seers and Stargazers and the Future. Her arms were stretched in supplication, and there were amethysts in her eyes. Her mouth was sewed shut with gleaming silver thread, needle buried in the hollow of her throat. Her blue-black hair, color broken only by a slash of silver at her temple, billowed out behind her.  
  
Cullyn, One who Bound it, come to me!   
  
A man in armor, red-gold armor emblazoned with a lion rampant. His hair was a flame, licking and tasting the plane-air above him. He held not a sword, but a whip, hilt wreathed in fire. The whip was plaited of blood-red threads, each pearled with sparkling tears woven in. His beautiful face was etched in lines of grief as he turned and faced the woman spirit. Her bound mouth smiled gently and he turned to face his Summoner.  
  
Rhodry, One who Sealed it!  
Nyven, One who Guarded it!  
Come to me, come to me!   
  
When he'd been learning the ritual, Dagger warned him that the Lovers were the hardest to Summon. They were two souls bound as one by the ties of love but separated by death and sacrifice. Theirs was a tragedy, a sob story. Their graves were reluctant to let Them touch again, and held Them with all the force they could gather.   
  
Nightbeak threw his draining lifeforce into breaking the graves and bringing the spirits. They were the most important of the Binding, it was they who tied the Keeper's power to that of the murder. Without that power, the chick would be naught but a Sleeper, a wizard whose powers were so dormant they only appeared in extreme situations.   
  
Beneath him, the Darkness writhed and grew, preparing to snuff the last of the light.  
  
Suddenly, the tiny light under the Darkness began to grow brighter. Nightbeak's dying energy eyes looked and saw them: the Two, the Bonded, the Lovers.  
  
For it was impossible to distinguish between the two figures that were entwined completely. He saw a head of white-gold and another of copper-brown, and two faces with burning eyes. Their bodies were caught in a fervent embrace, arms and legs and torsos entangled. Moonlight and sun-darkened skin contrasted and fit so well. They had stars for eyes, burning and shining with the power of their brief reunion.  
  
Nevyn, the white-haired one, spoke.  
  
--What do you wish of us?--  
  
It was the voice of one who had seen eternity and more. It was the voice of one who had suffered a million times, died a thousand, and loved once.   
  
Nightbeak spoke again, croaking out the Binding words.  
  
One to See it,  
One to Bind it,  
One to Seal it,  
One to Guard it.  
Four to chain a Keeper to the magick  
A Keeper to defend the Seal  
A Keeper to Watch the murder.  
Go forth now, Great Four of the Sealing,  
Go and apprentice this Keeper to the magicks  
Bind him to the murder  
Bind him to the seal  
Bind him to the monster  
Bind him to the tower  
Bind him to the magicks so that he   
May protect us  
Now and Evermore.  
  
And with this last dying breath, the raven's form broke into a million shattered diamonds. His task had been completed, and he could rest in peace for eternity.  
  
Then, the Seer, the Binder, the Sealer, the Guardian; the Four went forth and bound the new chick to the magicks and powers of the ravens. They connected his spirit to the Seal, his wand to the Bind, his eyes to the Sight, his body to the Guardian. They wove his psyche to the fate of the murder, forcing him to live until a new Keeper was chosen. They gave him accesses to the deep recesses of power that the Druids had left with the ravens, far more power than ten wizards of Voldemort's skill.   
  
And as they started and finished in an instant, Rhodry saw the chick in the physical plane for the briefest of moments. He saw the verdant eyes that marked him as Keeper, the black hair of his father's line, and saw his destiny.   
  
He saw misery and happiness, love and tragedy, power and weakness, death and resurrection. He saw the fulfillment of a Prophecy made a millennium before. He saw all and nothing. He saw the gleam of the Keeper's life intertwine and tangle with countless others, sometimes snarling, sometimes forming a knot of unpredictable beauty.  
  
And as the powers that held them in place dissipated with the raven's death, they were pulled back towards their graves and forced to separate, he whispered to his Beloved: --It is he. It is he who will release us. He who will kill it. He who will live.-- He saw a flash of understanding in Nevyn's eyes before their embrace was torn once more asunder as it had been countless times before.  
  
The Bind manifested itself in a blinding flash of light as the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse for the last time in over a decade.  
  
Green flashed.  
  
A baby gurgled.   
  
A dark lord was defeated.  
  
A scar was burned into skin.  
  
A white raven was born, a companion for the Keeper.  
  
And four destinies were fixed in stone.  
  
ende.  
  
so. did you like it? should i continue? keep my dayjob? what? i've also got a ujounral, if anyone wants to check it out (plug plug). www.ujournal.org/users/chiapet . visit and leave a message! ^_^  
  
pr355 7|-|15 8|_|770/\/. j00 |/\/0\/\/ j00 \/\/4/\/7 70. 


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